––––––––
Seven long hours passed before Fitzwilliam laid his eyes on the figure of Miss Elizabeth at dinner.
After the drama enacted by the Bingley women, which he could not be contrived upon to believe was less than deliberate, he had promptly taken his leave of their company and gone to the stable for his horse. Though he had no business to attend to outside Netherfield, he saddled the horse and took off. He had spent another hour or two or three; he could not say for certain for he was too deep in thoughts, deliberating upon his entrancement with Elizabeth Bennet.
Fitzwilliam detested deceit and he believed that it was the greatest injustice to deceive oneself especially; thus he was honest enough to acknowledge to himself the truth of his fascination. He fancied Elizabeth Bennet more than he ought to...and more than she deserved from the ilk of him. Judging from the constant repair of his thoughts to her, he figured that her lowly connections in the world would have but been of little consequence; he would have perhaps encouraged a closer relationship with her regardless of Miss Bingley's wiles. However, her repute was doubt-worthy in his sight and this; he was disinclined to forgive as easily as he acknowledged her fine eyes.
Close observation of her character did not reveal to him her true nature which he observed at the tavern and he consented that she was a great actress to lead two separate lives so.
His uncharitable thoughts toward her, however, in no way abated his enthusiasm to see her during dinner and he had scarcely been able to draw his eyes away from her figure in the entire course of the meal. After dinner, she removed above stairs again to her sister while they all removed to their rooms. Bingley engaged the time to apprise Darcy of the invitation to a hunting game he received in the noon and together, they decided on their plans to honour it or not. Having decided to honour the invitation- it was from Colonel Forster - they each decided to move in the direction of the drawing room to join the ladies.
Fitzwilliam was pleasantly surprised to behold the atmosphere in the room. It was one of easy companionship that can only be attributed to the presence of Jane in the room. Caroline was in the process of describing a happenstance to Jane, who was settled comfortably in a corner with the liveliest spirit he could yet attribute to her. Mrs. Hurst was smiling in a way that included her entire face- another feat he had previously thought impossible. Even Miss Elizabeth was smiling, underlining her fine eyes to perfection- her face was animated with relaxation and joy and once more, Fitzwilliam found himself further captivated by her.
The little party for the women, however, disbanded as soon as the women observed him, Bingley and Mr. Hurst appear in the room. Jane Bennet seized to be entertained any longer as Caroline turned to him instantly. He expressed his pleasure at Jane Bennet's evident recovery to Elizabeth in as much civil voice as he could manage- in accordance to his new resolve to be wary of her; while Charles did so with the greatest display of joy and true delight. Mr. Hurst only demonstrated some semblance of an acknowledging bow in Elizabeth's general direction that annoyed Fitzwilliam for no plausible reason.
Miss Bennet acknowledge their congratulations with demure smiles and appreciation for their care while Elizabeth expressed sincerely, how glad she was to have her sister in good health and, thus, hinted of their impending removal to Longbourn.
Ensuring to take his seat furthest away from Elizabeth, he was soon ordered on his feet again by Charles who fancied that Miss Bennet might catch a cold again and declared a need to build a fire. Both men were thus engaged for a brief period of time until Bingley declared the fire warm enough to ward off any cold that dared to threaten Miss Bennet's health. Thereafter, Bingley suggested that she remove to draw closer to the fire and when she did, he sat by her, promptly forgetting about his friend and all others in the room.
Tea was served and was quickly over, owing largely to the lack of conversation in the room, especially on Bingley's part- he continued to pay his undivided attention to Miss Jane Bennet. Mr. Hurst spoke up then, to invite Caroline to set the gaming table and engage the others in cards, but Caroline turned down his offer.
"Nobody else seems interested in a game of cards tonight, dearest brother-in-law." She smiled at him in a way that brooked no argument.
The man thus had not another resort but to take the sofa and send himself off to sleep. Shaking his head at his friend's obvious enamoured state with the ailing Miss Bennet and the little scene with Caroline and Mr. Hurst, Fitzwilliam proceeded to select a book from the shelf in the room and resumed his seat. It was, but a scarce amount of time, that he observed that Miss Bingley selected a book; the second volume of the one he was reading and settled down next to him. Set upon his resolution to avoid Elizabeth, he became studious, willing himself not to observe her as she knitted a yarn in the corner of the room, occasionally watching her sister and Bingley. In the end, he succeeded in his attempts to entice his eyes away from her figure and Fitzwilliam was soon lost in the book, but for Miss Bingley's disturbance now and then; glancing into his book and attempting to engage him in conversation with her. He, however, was unaffected by her disturbances- he could wager that she soon would become bored with the book for he knew that she had no burning passion for books like Miss Elizabeth.
Miss Bingley did not disappoint him as she soon cast the book aside. "How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way!" she said in a voice that rang out in falsified cheer. "I declare after all, there is no enjoyment like reading. How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library."
To her declaration, none made the tiniest reply to which she yawned and turned her gaze to her brother and Miss Jane. She was quick to interrupt their conversation upon hearing her brother mention of a ball at Netherfield.
"By the bye, Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance at Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult the wishes of the present party. I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure."
Every one of them assembled in the room knew that by 'some among us', she meant Darcy and eyes turned to him. Darcy ignored them all, not lifting his gaze from his book.
Bingley chuckled and replied, "If you mean Darcy, he may go to bed, if he chooses, before it begins- but as for the ball, it is quite a settled thing; and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough, I shall send round my cards."
"I should like balls infinitely better if they were carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much more rational if conversation, instead of dancing, were made the order of the day."
The above was from none other than Miss Bingley who released a long suffering sigh, even though thoughts of what to wear at the ball were already filling her head.
"Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say, but it would not be near so much like a ball," replied her brother who promptly returned to Jane, thus ending that subject.
Caroline, conceiving of no other pastime, began to take a calculated walk around the room to impress Mr. Darcy with her fine figure. In her frustration that he did not glance in her direction as much as she wanted, she invited Elizabeth to join her. "Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude."
The invitation caught Elizabeth most unaware but she consented.
Only then did Fitzwilliam look up for he could no longer resist the temptation to fix his eyes upon Elizabeth Bennet. Caroline Bingley was tall and carried herself proudly in a rod-straight affected manner around the room whilst Elizabeth simply walked around the room with apparently no other aim in mind than exercise. He found that he preferred her walk to Miss Bingley's very much indeed.
Aye, he could watch Miss Elizabeth Bennet walk around the room for the whole night and never for a moment, grow weary.
"I see how you look at us, Mr. Darcy," Miss Bingley observed. "Perhaps you would like to take a turn yourself?"
"I see no reason to- I can imagine that there could be but two motives for you ladies to walk up and down the room together in this fashion and joining you would interfere in any of this motives- whichever it may be."
Miss Caroline asked Miss Elizabeth what she imagined he meant by his cryptic remark and the latter advised her not to dwell upon it for she knew Mr. Darcy to be satirical in his approach. Miss Bingley of course could not let such comment pass by without gaining intelligence about it, especially since it was from Mr. Darcy, so she asked him about it and he explained thus:
"You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other's confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking; if the first, I would be completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire."
Miss Elizabeth was none much too surprised by the blatant reply but Miss Bingley gasped.
"Oh! Shocking! I never heard anything so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?" she asked of Elizabeth, seemingly forgetting her dislike of herself.
"Nothing so easy," her companion replied. "If you have but the inclination, we can all plague and punish one another. Tease him- laugh at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done."
Caroline sighed heavily, casting an annoyed look at Darcy.
"But upon my honour, I do not. I do assure you that my intimacy has not yet taught me that. Tease calmness of manner and presence of mind! No, no- feel he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will not expose ourselves, if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. Mr. Darcy may hug himself."
Elizabeth replied, "Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at! That is an uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would be a great loss to me to have many such acquaintances. I dearly love a laugh."
There, Mr. Darcy himself replied with a straight face, "Miss Bingley has given me more credit than can be. The wisest and the best of men- nay, the wisest and best of their actions- may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke."
"Certainly, there are such people," agreed Elizabeth good-naturedly, "but I hope I am not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is wise and good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without."
The conversation as started out had been relinquished to the commandeering of Elizabeth and Darcy.
"Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule," Darcy replied, pinning Elizabeth with a look.
She however refused to bow in his line of reasoning.
"Such as vanity and pride," said she.
And Darcy replied: "Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed," he allowed ruefully. "But pride- where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation."
He expected Elizabeth to reply. Nay, he anticipated it but he only saw her look down into her work and he imagined he saw a little smile upon her lips.
"Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume? And pray what is the result?" Miss Bingley said glad for an avenue to contribute at last.
Elizabeth looked up to answer her, bending her head to a side as if listening to a voice only she could hear.
"I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself without disguise," came the pronouncement.
"No,” Darcy disagreed, "I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding- certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of other so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever."
His rendition of what he deigned were his follies brought an ironical laughter to Elizabeth's lips. "That is a failing indeed!" said she. "Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me."
This she accompanied with another little laugh that elicited a frown from her subject.
"There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil- a natural defect, which, not even the best education can overcome."
"And your defect is to hate everybody," remarked Elizabeth unmoved by his double edged retaliation.
"And yours is willfully to misunderstand them," he retorted with a smile for a found their arguments to be quite charming and soothing.
"Do let us have a little music," Miss Bingley thought to say and turned to her sister. "Louisa, you will not mind my waking Mr. Hurst?"
Her sister too was weary of playing with her bangles all day while she listened alternatively to Bingley and Miss Bennet or Darcy and Elizabeth.
"He sleeps like the dead so, no objection do I have to any music that would liven up the atmosphere," said she.
Miss Bingley hurried to the pianoforte.
Elizabeth resumed her knitting, Bingley sat in companionable silence beside Jane who tapped her feet to the music, Darcy went back to his book, a dark frown set upon his face. He had enjoyed their repartee a little too much for comfort and only now did he recall his resolve not to address Miss Elizabeth in any conversation as a means of curbing his fascination with her. It was so unlike him in character to act against his own resolution that he was immediately angry with this failing of his.
He decided once more to follow the course of his resolution more firmly from then on, lest he found himself entrenched in the lion's den with no means of escape.
The next day, Elizabeth proposed to her sister that they leave Netherfield. In her opinion, they had imposed on the generosity of Mr. Bingley long enough. Word was sent to Longbourn that the carriage be sent to Netherfield to convey them home but their mother, wanting of them to continue their stay, refused them this request.
"You and I both know the reason mother has denied us the use of the carriage, Jane," she thus told her sister, "however, I think it highly unjust to continue to take advantage of Mr. Bingley's kindness when your recovery is so evident."
She made no mention of the ill feeling she had towards the Bingley women and the warmth she was beginning to feel towards Mr. Darcy. The latter excuse in particular was a feeling that had crept upon her most unaware and she wanted to be off before something came out of it, heavens forbid such occurrence. The day before, she had discovered that despite the exchange of words back and forth, she had rather enjoyed the scene too well. There could be no liking one such as Mr. Darcy, she told herself and since Jane was healing speedily, the decision to return home was promptly made.
"You say the truth and I earnestly agree," replied Jane. "But we cannot make our way home on foot or on horse for that matter; I am afraid that I shall not make it this time around."
"Oh! Do not be tease me so, Jane," cried Elizabeth, "I would not dare to mention walking to our hosts; I vividly remember the looks I received upon doing so to come here. And by the by, recovered as you are, you are in no shape to walk or ride a horse. I think we will have to impose once more on Mr. Bingley's generosity and request for his carriage."
Jane thought it an excellent idea and made the request. Mr. Bingley would hear nothing of their removal on that day and made an appeal that they wait till the next day; the sisters agreed.
At noon, Jane was inclined towards a walk; Elizabeth couldn't fault her- if she were fixed in bed for four days like her sister, she would want to run in the wind when she healed. The Bingley sisters were gone to Meryton; they had failed to employ the services of their brother and Mr. Darcy to accompany them to the milliner's in Meryton for new hats, and left in a fit of annoyance with Mr. Hurst. To Jane's inclination, Mr. Bingley volunteered himself to take her for a turn in the garden and when Elizabeth ensured that she was well wrapped against any wind, she deemed them ready to go. She was left in the house with Mr. Darcy.
Telling herself that he probably was lazing the day away in his bed- even though she had noticed his dislike for indolence- she thus decided to ignore the intelligence of his presence in the house and repaired to the library for a book. It was most unfortunate that he was in the library too, reading a book. At first, she thought of leaving the room to him but decided that he would think her so subdued. She entered, murmuring a greeting to him and took a book to read at a corner as far away from him as she could manage.
They did not exchange further words and so they remained until Bingley returned with Jane and took to reading out loud to her.
At night again, she found herself alone with him for a short while- a period shorter than that of the noon. The meeting was nothing but chance but from it, she gained the highest intelligence of all.
Everyone had earlier retired to their beds and Elizabeth was in the process of doing so herself after spending some time attending to Jane but Jane expressed that she had forgotten her wrapper in the library in the afternoon and so, Elizabeth offered to go to the library to retrieve it for her. Wrapper in one hand and a torch in another, she was withdrawing from the room when she bumped into a figure who was apparently on his way down the hall outside the library.
"What is this?" Darcy cried in vexation at the surprise as he held her steady with a hand on her wrist lest she fell.
He was wearing a hat which swept low across his face and riding clothes- both of which suggested his intent to go out at that ungodly hour. The torch was between them in a manner that only added to the mystery that the hat lent to his face and one disturbing memory which had always danced on the borders of her mind came to the forefront. She was thrown back to two months ago to Fitzwilliam Tavern in Meryton.
"You!" she gasped in disbelief. "It was you."
She saw his jaw tighten and despite the darkness, she saw a hardness enter his eyes. He said naught to her but released hold of her wrist, steadied the torch in her hand and walked down the hall and out of her sight. Her shock rendered no help to her legs to go after him or to her mouth to say another word to him.
Elizabeth remained in the same position for a long time, staring at the spot where she had encountered Mr. Darcy. She had no doubt of it that he was the man who had almost ruined her plot at the tavern. Then, the man had mentioned that he was a stranger in the country and she had thought no more of it.
How silly of me!
She had been living in such close quarters with the same man for nigh four days and she hadn't recognized him! She had no doubt also that he recognized her right at the assembly where they had officially been introduced. It was no wonder that he held her in such low opinion; in fact, it was no wonder that he spoke to her at all. A man of his ilk did not descend so low as to speak to ladies they found in a tavern. More so, she figured that he hadn't told a soul about their meeting, despite how much it must gall him to be found in her presence. For this alone, her respect for his integrity increased several ranks higher. However, with the respect came an annoyance so profound. It was apparent that finding her in the room had dented her forever in his eyes. It must be the reason he was mostly disparaging of her character; he had found her lacking and so condemned her.
He was none so high in her opinions either, but wasn't it wise to gain accurate intelligence before deciding upon the character of a person? Despite that, she had the most discouraging encounter with him upon their first acquaintance- why, he had abused her to her hearing, but she still deigned to talk to him civilly afterwards. And he wasn't so faultless either, she thought in a fit of self defence; hadn't he also been at the tavern? If he was so high and mighty like he purported to carry himself about, what was his business in a room above the stairs in Fitzwilliam Tavern where it was well known what happened in those rooms. Perhaps, even now, he was heading to the tavern for some illicit pleasure.
Thinking this and sufficiently riled up in her own defence, Elizabeth marched to Jane's room to find her sister asleep. Her ire reduced a notch as she tenderly covered her sister with the wrapper and left the room.
Mr. Darcy could rot in hell with his biased judgement of her for all she cared; they were leaving the house on the morrow.